


The Prince and the Captain

by thepilot



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bassian, Blow Job, Bodhi is a Prince, Death, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, Fantasy Sex, Injury, Jedha, M/M, Major Original Character Death, Mutual Pining, Prince Bodhi, Sexual Content, Sexual Fantasy, Violence, bodhi x cassian, sniperpilot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-14
Updated: 2017-11-04
Packaged: 2018-12-29 18:39:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12091026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepilot/pseuds/thepilot
Summary: Captain Cassian Andor is assigned to protect the life of Prince Bodhi Rook.





	1. Chapter 1

Prince Bodhi Rook was haughty, handsome, and predictable. His silky black hair was tied back in an intricate braid that hung just below his shoulders, and his bronzed face was devoid of any facial hair. His large brown eyes always seemed to be fixed in an arrogant stare that only helped to compliment his turned up nose. He wore robes of rich blue and gold that flowed around him like mist. For everything that Prince Bodhi was, his advisor, Pasha, was not.  

Pasha, unlike Prince Bodhi, though somewhat similar in looks and build, was thoughtful, rugged, and constantly surprising. His long frizzy black hair was gathered in a few ponytails that began at the crown of his head and trailed down to erupt at his neck like a ruffled tail feather. His bronzed face was tickled with freckles, and he had the beginnings of an unkempt beard. His large brown eyes seemed to contain excitement and wonder. His lips were pink and stood out in stark contrast to the hairs that outlined his mouth. He wore simple robes of brown and tan that did nothing to compliment his frame.

“Captain Andor?” a lithe voice interrupted.

“Hm?” He’d been comparing the two again. How long had the Prince been talking?

“I said, what do you think of this tea? I had it especially imported for my gala coming up.”

Cassian caught the smirk Pasha gave him before quickly staring back at the ornate tea cup in his hand. Cassian did his best to suppress his smirk as he put the cup up to his lips.

“Oh. I uh…it’s good. It’s minty.”

“I hate mint,” the Prince declared. He watched as Pasha took a quick sip.

“I uh…” Pasha began as he set his cup down. “I don’t think your guests will mind. With the occupation, I think it would be difficult to find a-a substitute.” The Prince considered Pasha for a moment before taking another sip.

“I suppose. Perhaps we have something in storage. I’d hate for my guests to be offered something their host does not even enjoy.”

“I can look. Later. I know we have quite an extensive tea collection,” Pasha offered, finishing the last of his tea.

“Well, I need to resume my search for dress robes. Pasha, you will accompany me to my dressing room,” the Prince commanded, standing and waiting for Pasha to rise. Cassian quickly clamped a hand over his mouth to conceal his smile. Pasha stood obediently, a silk pillow in his clutch.

“Yes, your highness,” he said, feigning interest. As Pasha started to follow Prince Bodhi from the room, he turned back to Cassian and hurled the pillow at him, grinning from ear to ear, as Cassian collapsed on to the pillow in a fit of laughter.

It had been almost one month since Cassian had taken the assignment to be Prince Bodhi’s bodyguard. He’d taken the assignment out of boredom, and because he’d been housed, fed, and even clothed by the Palace. A relatively easy assignment. The only task he’d been given was to protect the Prince at all costs, no matter what. Even if it meant giving his life. _Relatively_ easy. Cassian had been briefed on the Palace’s small, though important, position in the Senate, and soon learned that the Prince’s life, or death, could lead to full out civil war on Jedha. The Prince needed to be brought to the Rebellion to help resist the Imperial Occupational Forces, but first he needed to be kept alive.

The first time Cassian had attempted to stay at the Prince’s side at all times, he’d found out that the Prince preferred only the company of Pasha when it came to matters of dress, and, quickly trusting Pasha and his kind face, had allowed him to have his time alone.

Cassian sprawled himself out on the floor, gazing up at the ceiling as he stretched his bare feet. The warm Palace was entirely stone and ornately decorated with rich silks that draped from every doorway and window, with intricate tile that weaved across the floors, hidden by the occasional rug. Large pillows were often substitutes for furniture, and each room burned with a different scent. The tea room, Cassian had learned, always smelled of kewda.  Cassian jumped as he heard the furnace kick on. He rolled himself up and straightened his robes, deciding to check on the Prince and Pasha.

Cassian had dealt with royalty before, and wasn’t at all surprised by Prince Bodhi’s selfish nature. What Cassian had been surprised by, was Pasha. As Cassian walked the various levels and winding hallways to the Prince’s dressing room, he found himself thinking about Pasha in intricate detail, more than he’d normally allowed himself to think about a colleague. Suddenly, as Cassian turned a corner, he collided with a solid figure.

“Ow! Oh, I was just coming to find you!” Pasha exclaimed as he and Cassian righted themselves. He bowed to Cassian, drawing his hand across his chest and clearing his throat. “His highness is satisfied with his robe selection, but desires you to also wear formal attire for his gala. He has generously permitted you to wear something of his.” Cassian scrunched his face up. Pasha chuckled as he dropped his overly formal air, which he did in mockery of Prince Bodhi for Cassian on the very few occasions they found themselves alone.

“It’s only for a few hours. Don’t worry: I already told him what he should let you borrow.” Pasha’s voice lowered to a whisper. “But he thinks all of the outfit selections were his idea, so if you could pretend each one is better than the last, I’d appreciate it.”

Cassian sighed. “Only for you. You know I’m only doing this for you? You owe me.”

Pasha gave Cassian a sly smile. “Don’t worry. I’ve already decided how I can repay you.” Cassian was quite certain the gulp he’d just made was audible the next planet over. He’d never let himself fall for someone before, certainly not on assignment, and found it more and more difficult to conceal his feelings.

Pasha suddenly looked smugger than Cassian had ever seen him. “Come on, the sooner we get this over with the sooner the Prince can start in on us again about that kriffing tea.” They both laughed as they started for the Prince’s dressing room, Cassian convinced he’d left his poise somewhere in the hallway…


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit longer than I had thought it would be when I first set out to write it. I'm not doing a lot of editing on this story: I just really want to get it out, so please forgive any inconsistencies or errors. This chapter contains smut.

The gala in a few nights, which Cassian was only begrudgingly allowing because of some of the contacts he might be able to make, had been set by the Prince’s uncle before he’d fallen ill. Cassian had spent every night up on his holopad researching each and every invited guest to ensure the Prince’s safety and had also taken to making sure there was enough security. Pasha had taken care of all the other arrangements, but there were some things Pasha had planned that the Prince had discovered as an attempt to conserve funds, and he’d exploded.

“No, Your Highness. It’s a horrible, really bad idea, and I cannot permit you risking yourself out on the streets. I won’t allow it.”

The Prince huffed and crossed his arms.

“I agree, Prince. You’re really taking all of this much, much too far.” Pasha was trying his best to support Cassian, but it seemed they were both losing the battle. The Prince was determined to go to the marketplace and buy frivolous things for his gala, among them tea, and neither Cassian nor Pasha was having any of it. But the Prince was the Prince, and he always seemed to get what he wanted.

Cassian really wished Prince Bodhi had living relatives to handle this man-child. Pasha had requested a bodyguard (which the Alliance had discovered and quickly sought someone to fill the position), at the passing of the only other living Rook, and it was only too apparent to Cassian as to why. Pasha couldn't handle him alone. There were other servants within the palace: cooks, maids, a few guards, etc., but no one to take care of the Prince other than Pasha. With the Alliance's desperation to keep the Prince alive and bring him to their side, they were happy for an excuse to infiltrate the Palace.

“If you don’t allow me to go, I’ll slit your throats and sneak out,” the Prince said flatly. He slept with a dagger. Cassian was actually frightened he’d do it, but kept a straight face.

Pasha started rubbing a hand over his face as Cassian ran a hand through his hair.

“Fine. _Fine_. We’ll come with you. But you’re wearing my outfit and my old parka. With the hood up. If you go out like, like _that_ , you’ll raise more than a few eyebrows.”

Prince’s Bodhi’s outfit selection today had, earlier, been the cause of a laughing fit between Pasha and Cassian. How had Pasha put it? A throw pillow in heat.

The Prince considered Cassian, then looked at Pasha, who shrugged.

“I will permit this,” Prince Bodhi said, nodding slightly.

Pasha rolled his eyes.

As they prepared to leave, Cassian and Pasha had settled on keeping their silken robes on and layering on heavy kaftans with boots to keep the cold at bay. They wanted to keep as much attention away from Prince Bodhi as possible, and dressing in more traditional garb while the Prince wore civilian clothing would help. Or at least, that’s what Cassian had rationalized. Normally Cassian would be reluctant to keep the robes on, but their looseness would make hand to hand combat much less restricted and also easier for Cassian to conceal weapons.

==================

They’d been walking the marketplace for three hours, now finally making their way back to the Palace. Pasha was now the bearer of a load so large he looked on the verge of collapse. It was quite a marvel to Cassian how skilled Pasha was at bargaining, and how fluently he slipped in and out of languages. The way he was currently balancing all of the Prince’s packages was nothing shy of artistry, as he was even balancing one from time to time on his head when he needed a free hand. Cassian had initially offered to carry everything, but the Prince had argued, saying that he did not trust Cassian to take care of them. He may have been right. But he felt sore just looking at Pasha, carrying what Cassian estimated to be twice his weight, as sweat bedewed his brow despite the frigid temperatures.

The trio had only attracted a few stares, but they’d only increased as the parcel amount increased. Cassian was only too glad to be back at the Palace finally, nodding to the two guards who greeted them as they made their way to the dining hall, Pasha maneuvering his body to fit through doorways. To say that Cassian was furious with Prince Bodhi for his treatment of Pasha would have been an understatement.

As Pasha began to carefully set the packages down, Cassian stepped in and helped him, noticing how Pasha seemed to be wincing some. Furious. Angry. The Prince was removing Cassian’s parka as if it were the most complicated bit of fashion he’d ever encountered.

“I’m going to rest before dinner. You will escort me now to my bedroom and I will let you select dinner robes for me while I rest.”

 _Murderous_.

“Yes, Your Highness,” Pasha said, straightening himself up. He looked as if a breath could knock him over, but still, he held his head high and shoulders back as he followed the Prince to his bedroom. Cassian trailed behind, noticing the hitches in Pasha’s steps. As Pasha jogged past the Prince to pull back the curtains to the Prince’s bedroom, Cassian gave him a brief nod as he scanned the room. It had become routine that Cassian did this before the Prince entered his bedroom any time, and Cassian was half-wishing he’d find someone hidden and ask him to murder the Prince for him and he'd just run away. No, he'd take Pasha with him. As Cassian gave the nod that all was clear, Pasha followed the Prince in to help him change and settle in to bed. Cassian waited outside the room, and was relieved when Pasha finally appeared through the curtain.

Cassian and Pasha only made it down one hallway before Pasha’s knees gave out and Cassian flew to his side. But Pasha was defiant.

“I can make it. I just need to select the Prince’s dinner robes and then I can rest some, too.”

“No. Absolutely not. I’m taking you to your room. I’ll find something for him to wear. It’s not worth it.” Cassian started scooping Pasha up in his arms, and, much to Cassian’s relief, Pasha didn’t protest. At least not physically.

“Captain, this is really embarrassing. Please put me down.”

“I will, as soon as you are in bed. Almost there,” Cassian said as he maneuvered his way around the curtain hanging in Pasha’s doorway. Cassian wasn’t at all surprised to find that Pasha’s bedroom was identical to his, with nothing more than a small wardrobe and curtained bed with nightstand and lamp.

He gently set Pasha down on the bed, and began working on removing his boots.

Pasha sighed, but seemed too sore to stop Cassian.

“This isn’t fair, you know. I’ve now got to come up with another form of payment for you,” Pasha said with a smirk. But Cassian wasn’t amused. He set Pasha’s boots down and stood at his bedside, arms flailing.

“What that ass just did to you is inexcusable, and if I wasn’t thinking about the greater good in all this, _all of this_ , I’d strangle him.”

“Captain, he’s just selfish. He’s too selfish to even realize he’s being cruel. Ow!” Pasha had attempted to roll on to his side, but found it caused him more pain. At that, Cassian ran from the room for several minutes, and returned with a small bottle. He was down to one layer of robes, clearly having removed his outerwear in his room as he had grabbed the bottle. His bare feet were silent across the tiled floor as he walked towards the bed.

Pasha sat up, raising an eyebrow at Cassian.

“I hope those are pain killers.”

“No,” Cassian said as he sat down on the bed beside Pasha. “It’s a balm. I keep it with me in case I get bruised on a mission. Let’s get you out of that top. Come on, I’ll help.” Pasha didn’t protest, but winced in pain as Cassian maneuvered behind him and helped slipped it over his shoulders. Cassian gasped. Where he had expected to find bare skin was an intricate circular pattern tattooed in maroon across the entirety of Pasha’s back.

“It’s a family tradition. We…it’s something we do in my family,” Pasha said, clearly noticing Cassian’s shock.

“It’s…it’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.”

It was a few moments before Cassian remembered what he had been doing. He lathered up his hands and slowly began working them gently over Pasha’s back, careful not to press too hard. Pasha groaned and winced in pain a few times, and Cassian moved on to another spot.

Very slowly, and with much care, Cassian could feel Pasha’s muscles begin to relax beneath his touch. Cassian wasn’t sure when he’d moved closer behind Pasha, but he soon found himself in much closer proximity. He breathed in the scent the balm had left across Pasha’s skin, and found his fingers idly tracing the patterns across Pasha’s back.

“We have a custom,” Pasha said quietly. “We have a custom that. In our culture, there are only two people allowed to trace our patterns.”

“Hm?” Cassian hummed, continuing his journey.

“The person who etches it into our skin and…” Pasha drifted off, keeping his gaze forward.

“Who’s the other person?”

“Our life partner. After…after we make love for the first time. The night of our union ceremony.”

Cassian stopped abruptly. He was intruding on a custom.

“I didn’t tell you because I wanted you to stop,” Pasha said, turning his head slightly to catch Cassian’s eye. Cassian couldn’t help but smile, and moved his lips to start the work his hands had abandoned, finally receiving the permission he had so desperately been seeking. Pasha cooed in approval. He wrapped his arms around Pasha, who, in turn began brushing his lips across one of the arms that now encircled him.

Cassian moved his work to Pasha’s shoulders as Pasha took up Cassian’s hand and began planting delicate open kisses on his palm. Cassian smiled against his kisses and felt Pasha smile against his hand. Pasha twisted himself around and gently pushed Cassian on to his back, laying on top of Cassian as their fingers found each other’s hair. They stared into each other’s eyes for what seemed an eternity. Cassian _could_ stare in Pasha’s eyes for an eternity. Easily.

Slowly, with hesitation, their lips finally met, and they breathed each other in. Their sweet kiss deepened with desperation and lust, as Pasha thrust his hips into Cassian’s. Any crucial pain Pasha had been exhibiting was either being kept at bay or hadn’t been nearly as bad as it had seemed: Cassian half hoped Pasha had been pretending, knowing Cassian would tend to him.

Pasha moaned for the first time in pleasure rather than pain as he pressed his entire length in the crook of Cassian’s hip as Cassian mutually benefited from the pressure. Their silken trousers were tented and dampened as their kisses frenzied between moans and Pasha’s thrusts grew more forceful. Pasha was the first to release, his sweet voice strained in orgasm. The sight of Pasha, quivering with pleasure and the very sound of him, caused Cassian to follow quickly. Pasha dropped himself lightly on to Cassian’s chest. They both smiled as Pasha rested his head on Cassian’s shoulder. Everything had happened so quickly, Cassian had only just realized he was still wearing his robes as Pasha’s hands slipped beneath the collar to trace bare skin.

They lay for a time, drinking each other in with slow breaths and airy fingers. Suddenly, Pasha shoved himself off Cassian, panic set on his face.

“The Prince. We have to find him dinner robes. He’ll come running in here. If he finds us like this…” Pasha was already throwing his discarded top on as he jumped from the bed. Cassian stood beside Pasha, and pulled him in to an embrace. He kissed him on the forehead.

“I’ll go check on him. If he’s not sleeping, I’ll just knock him out.”

They both laughed.

“I wish it were that easy. Go. When I’m ready for him in the dressing room I will let you know.”

Cassian quickly kissed Pasha’s lips before he ran to the undeserving Prince’s bedroom, a smile spread across his face.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There is mild violence in this chapter. This fic was only supposed to be three chapters. Then this happened. I like this chapter on it's own, so It's probably going to be more like 5 now.

Prince Bodhi had just finished his extensive walk-through of the Palace. The gala was finally, _finally_ happening in a few hours.

The Prince was silent for a moment. “Mmm…I find this to be acceptable. I am ready to begin dressing.”

Pasha clapped a hand across his chest as he bowed his head to the Prince, and Cassian let out his held breath. The two had stayed up all night helping the other servants decorate. It would have been an easier task if the Prince hadn’t kept waking up and checking on the progress, Cassian having to follow him every time to ensure his safety, abandoning Pasha and the other servants with their preparation.

“That is excellent, Your Majesty. Thank you.”

Cassian wasn’t sure why Pasha was bothering to thank the Prince, and watched as he followed the Prince from the great hall, a quick glance and slight smile. After their stolen moment a few evenings ago, they’d only managed passing kisses and swift touches. The pair had spent every waking minute preparing for the gala, Pasha doing the work of several men while Cassian made sure all of the security measures he’d taken were properly prepared and ready to be executed without any mistakes.

Cassian had pulled many of his own men in to guard the Prince, and made sure he’d have several sharp shooters with him. With every bit of investigation Cassian had done, it would be next to impossible for anyone to make an attempt on Prince Bodhi’s life. But Cassian had witnessed the impossible happen, and wasn’t about to take any chances.

Pasha had, in fact, been truthful in his soreness caused by the burden he’d been forced to carry for the Prince from the marketplace, and only now seemed to be moving fluidly again. Almost. Cassian felt on the verge of collapse from sleep deprivation, and couldn’t figure out how Pasha was still in an upright position.

For lack of a more interesting activity at the present, Cassian decided to do a perimeter of the Palace before his backup arrived, double checking the positions he’d assigned to his men. Consulting his holopad, he made his way down each hallway. One stationed in this doorway, another in this room, and so on and so forth until he reached the Prince’s private corridor. Cassian felt his stomach drop as he heard muffled screams echoing from the Prince’s dressing room. The holopad in hand was expertly replaced by a blaster. Cassian crouched low, his heart pounding, as he drew nearer to the room. He heard the distinct sound of a fist hitting flesh, followed by a whimper. No. He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t _dare_.

_Murderous. But the cause! No, this was cruelty! No more cruel than the evil Empire that threatened the galaxy._

Cassian paused outside the room, laying on his stomach to peer beneath the heavy curtain. The scene was exactly as predicted, but it hadn’t made seeing it any better. Pasha sat on a knee, holding a hand to his eye. Prince Bodhi hovered over him, rage coursing through him as his body heaved with each breath he took. He was elaborately dressed like one of his throw pillows in a fuchsia that could make a person blind. Cassian wished he could find humor in the situation, but he was still battling with his conscience. The blaster felt too familiar in his hand.

“How dare you! How _dare_ you! You are nothing. Nothing! And if you ever, _ever_ prick me with a sewing needle again, I’ll see to it that you are executed.”

Executed. From a pin prick.

“Your Highness, please. It was not on purpose. I only sought to tack up the back so you wouldn’t trip. Please. It’s fixed now. _Please._ ”

Prince Bodhi seemed to be coming down from his fit of rage, and lowered the hand he’d raised to strike Pasha once more.

“You are dismissed. Find Captain Andor and send him to me. He can attend to my hair. I do not find you worthy at this time.”

“Yes, Prince,” Pasha said, getting to his feet. His eye was already swollen and bruised. He bowed himself out of the room as Cassian got to his feet.

As soon as Pasha pushed his way through the curtain, Cassian had him in his arms.

“I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry, Pasha,” he whispered, kissing his cheek and squeezing him in a tight embrace. He rocked Pasha back and forth a few times before holding him out and examining his eye. Pasha was smiling sadly.

“It was my fault. Really.” Cassian raised an eyebrow at that. “Really! I…I may have pricked him on purpose. I wasn’t expecting him to explode like that. I thought he’d be too worried about bleeding on his robes and just cry. I just couldn’t listen to him talk anymore and I…It was foolish of me.”

“We need to get ice on your eye.”

“No, you need to hope you know how to braid hair. I will ice my eye. I’ve still got some things to take care of, anyway. You don’t need to see out of both eyes to test dessert samples, do you?”

Cassian smiled as he brushed a thumb over Pasha’s bottom lip. “No, for that you need your lips. And tongue.” He drew Pasha in for a kiss, the best he could offer in the situation. They broke apart, arms still wrapped around one another. Cassian suddenly realized Pasha was armed, too: his eyes were the most dangerous weapon in the galaxy.

“You’d better go. He’s got one hell of a right hook.” Cassian’s mouth turned up in a crooked smile. Pasha was still able to find humor at least.

“And I’ve got a blaster. I’ll see you soon.” Cassian gave him a quick peck, and Pasha was on his way, poised and composed. He'd just been decked in the eye, and he walked like he did any other time. Cassian wasn’t sure he’d ever met someone more regal than this advisor, this man who waited hand and foot on a Prince who didn’t realize the real royalty before him. Cassian’s Prince.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH (S)  
> SMUT WARNING: BLOW JOB

**WARNING: CHARACTER DEATH (S)**  
**SMUT WARNING: BLOW JOB**

Cassian, as it turned out, was actually quite good at braiding hair. But he was even better at keeping his composure being in such close proximity to a man he now despised. About 5 minutes in to braiding, he’d managed to at least convey such a cold attitude that Prince Bodhi kept his mouth shut. For the most part. Cassian placing his blaster on the vanity stand had clearly been enough of an indicator that he was not there for small talk.

“Thank you, Captain,” the Prince said, admiring himself as Cassian finished his work. He’d wished he’d spent the time braiding Pasha’s hair, and had even imagined that that was what he was doing, but he was relieved to be finished. The Prince really was quite striking, but he was too pretentious, not to mention cruel. The blaster was ever so conveniently ready to use…

“You need to change, Captain. I want to see you in the robes I picked out.” The Prince looked at Cassian in a way he never had before as he stood to face Cassian: lust. Too close. Cassian edged his way to the blaster, his pulse racing. He could make it look like an accident. He had to.

“I can help you change. If you want-“ Prince Bodhi jumped on Cassian pressing their lips together as he frantically ran his hands over Cassian’s back. Cassian pushed the Prince forward in what the Prince mistakenly took to be an act of desire and tried to force his tongue into Cassian’s mouth just as his hand found the blaster. The trigger.

“Ahem. Sir?” a soft male voice called from the doorway. The Prince pushed himself off Cassian, making a show of straightening his robes. Cassian swallowed hard as he lowered his blaster, turning slowly to face the voice.

“I’ve been assigned to the Prince for the rest of the evening.”

Cassian’s body relaxed in relief. He walked towards the older Rebel who had many scars donning his face, and pulled him in a friendly hug of comradery. Or was it thanks?

“Excellent. Excellent. It’s good to meet you. I’ll leave you to it,” Cassian said with a wave, and all but ran from the room.

When Cassian had finally made it to his room, he flung himself on his bed, burying his face in his pillow and letting out a muffled cry of frustration. This was just one evening. This gala. Cassian had gotten himself into being a bodyguard for an indefinite amount of time. He hadn’t even started talking to Prince Bodhi about the Alliance. He’d wanted to gain his trust, possibly learn more about the family and the Palace. And now this? He’d have to find a way to be replaced. He needed to leave, and he needed to leave as soon as this gala was over.

Pasha…what about Pasha? Cassian groaned as he rolled himself on to his back, feeling a lump rise in his throat as he thought about Pasha. Sweet, undeserving Pasha who had been struck by a greedy, manipulative prick. Pasha, with his quick humor and sly smiles. Pasha, who was always poised. Pasha, who was much stronger than he looked. Pasha, who had a beautiful tattoo on his back. Pasha, who…

Cassian sprang up from the bed and began frantically splashing water on his face from the basin beside his bed. He slipped himself out of his robes and in to the dress robes _Pasha_ had picked out. _Not_ the Prince. No, Cassian’s Prince. _Prince Pasha_.

“This. Damn. Sash!” he exclaimed, trying to wrap it around his waist and failing each time. He’d never figure it out himself. Glancing at the time, he realized he still had at least an hour before the Prince was to make his formal entrance to the gala. Cassian would find his Prince. He needed to.

Grabbing up his sash, he sprinted from the room, walking down each hallway and varied levels. He should have been talking to his men more, who were now situated in their assigned spots, but all Cassian could manage was a slight nod.

It wasn’t until Cassian had reached the great hall that he spotted Pasha, and felt his knees go out briefly.

Pasha wore robes of midnight blue, a slight shimmer to them. His hair was styled the same as it always was, but jewels dripped from each pony tail, as they caught light and shimmered as Pasha talked to one of the guests. There were people in the room other than Pasha? Cassian wasn’t aware. It was Pasha’s face that had caused Cassian’s breath to hitch. In what Cassian could only imagine had been an attempt to conceal his black eye, Pasha had done his eyes up with thick black eyeliner, winging out to each side. His eyelids were painted with a shimmering blue, with small crystals on either side of his eyes. He wore a beautiful ring with chains that webbed out to his wrist, jewels shimmering on every other link.

Cassian felt himself walking slowly towards Pasha, not really knowing when his body had made the decision to move.

Pasha caught sight of Cassian and blushed. He spoke a few words to the guest and met Cassian half-way.

“Captain, you look…that color is…I should dress you up in my robes more often…”

It was taking every bit of restraint Cassian could muster to not make a scene.

“Your eyes…” was all Cassian could manage to say. Pasha looked down, shame and embarrassment on his face.

“I know. It’s too much. I got carried away. I’m afraid I look like a throw pillow in heat.” Pasha smiled.

Cassian was transfixed. Did he have a tongue? He hoped so.

“I…” Cassian swallowed. “Can we talk? I need to talk.”

“Yeah, yeah sure. Something wrong?”

“Yes. I mean, not you.”

Pasha began leading the way from the room, settling on stopping by the storage room just near the kitchen.

“What’s wrong, Captain? Is it something to do with your security operations? Please tell me someone is with the Prince right now? Or did you finally strangle him? Do we need to run away?”

“Yes, he’s being looked after. He…” But as Cassian stared into his Prince’s eyes, he suddenly forgot what he was going to say to him. But do? He gently backed Pasha through the curtain into the dimly lit storage room. Cassian was silent, longing for his Prince, hoping he’d make the first move. He did. Sort of.

“Captain, your sash! Is that what you needed? Why we’re in here?” All Cassian could do was nod. He’d completely forgotten it was still in his hand. Pasha took it from Cassian’s hands and started wrapping it around his waist. They were so close. Too close for Pasha to not see what he was doing to Cassian. Pasha dropped down to better tuck in the sash. Cassian watched as his Prince’s long fingers tugged and stuffed the fabric, then he paused in his movement. The corners of his lips turned up in a crooked smile, and Cassian gasped as Pasha’s hand clamped over Cassian’s crotch. Pasha stroked and pushed through the flowing fabric before working his hands around the sash, undoing all the work he’d just done.

“Pasha…please…”

A throaty laugh floated out of Pasha.

“This was…this was one of the ways I had wanted to-to pay you back.”

Cassian laughed in turn as Pasha had now managed to release the prize he had sought through the folds of the silk. Some moments passed before Pasha hesitantly began dancing his tongue along Cassian’s erection, his facial hair tickling him, as Cassian clamped a hand over his mouth. Pasha seemed to notice, and only seemed to be encouraged by the response he’d gotten. Cassian knew this wouldn’t last, as he now felt the vibrations in Pasha’s throat as he began taking in the length of him and pumping his mouth up and down, Cassian jolting with the thrusts, sending shockwaves through his body.

A storage closet. This was a storage closet! A linen closet. Cassian’s trembling hand found something cloth just in time to slip it in between himself and Pasha as he came, his other hand still clamped over his mouth. Pasha rose to his feet and pulled Cassian’s hand away from his mouth so their lips could touch. Sweetly, passionately. Cassian wrapped his arms around tight and pulled him in close. Now he could feel Pasha against him, hard, waiting for the same treatment. And he’d receive it. Cassian began kissing his way along Pasha’s jaw line, whispering between kisses

“We need to leave, Pasha. I can’t stay here any longer. You can’t stay here any longer.”

“But the Prince…” Pasha trailed off, trembling in Cassian’s embrace.

“He’s no Prince. Any Prince who would treat you like that is no Prince. He’s scum. He’s a worm. You’re the real Prince, Pasha. My Prince,” Cassian said, kissing Pasha’s neck. “My Prince,” he repeated, another kiss. “My Prince,” repeated again and again until Pasha was desperate in Cassian’s embrace, wimpering.

Suddenly, a blaster shot. A second. They both froze. Silence. A third blaster shot. Cassian didn’t have his blaster. Where was his blaster?

“No. No, no, no, no, no!” was all Cassian could manage as he tore out of the storage room, Pasha trailing close behind.

They ran to the great hall, chaos everywhere. Guests were screaming and running, and Cassian’s reinforcements were pooling in to the hall. They pushed their way to the center of the room where the Rebels were crowded around two figures. There was no mistaking the pink worn by the Prince who lay beside- No. It couldn’t be.

Lying dead beside Prince Bodhi was the bodyguard Cassian had left him with. Cassian felt like he was going to vomit. The soldier hadn’t introduced himself, hadn’t called Cassian by name. He probably hadn’t even known which man was his target when he’d simply said “sir.” Pasha cried out as he rushed to the Prince’s side, still clinging to life.

“I’m here, I’m here,” Pasha said, gently caressing the Prince’s face. “Please, please don’t die. Please.”

“You,” the Prince managed to say. “This is your fault. You arrogant, selfish little man.” His breathing intensified, and he spit in Pasha’s face. “You selfish,” but the Prince didn’t get to finish his sentence. Pasha collapsed on his form, sobbing. Cassian was confused. How could Pasha mourn a man who had despised him to his dying breath? But he knelt beside Pasha and managed to pull him off of the Prince’s lifeless form.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Cassian said, rocking Pasha back and forth.

“Captain, get out of here. The Palace has been compromised. Now!” one of the Rebels said to Cassian. Cassian wasn't leaving without Pasha, who nodded as Cassian took his hand, leading him from the hall. The pair was flanked by multiple soldier’s on either side as they were ushered outside into a waiting U-Wing.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter. Mild violence. Minor character death. I just like this dynamic too much and want to draw it out a wee bit longer.

Cassian took up the co-pilots chair as he nodded briefly at the woman piloting the ship. Pasha took up a position on a bench, looking out the window.They’d barely made it in the air before an explosion was visible erupting from the Palace. Pasha drew his knees up to his chest from his position on the bench, first moaning and then sobbing.

“Why?” Pasha managed through ragged breaths.

Cassian looked at the soldier who was piloting the U-Wing, who looked back at Pasha sympathetically.

“Any intel as to who began the assault on the Palace? Extremists, or the Empire?” Cassian asked.

“No, Captain. We’re still trying to gather information,” she said, looking at Pasha sadly. “At least you’re both safe.”

“Yeah…” Cassian said, stealing a glance at Pasha, who was still sobbing into his knees. He wished he could comfort Pasha, but he didn’t trust the soldier piloting the ship right now. How could he?

Pulling away from Jedha City, they headed across the frozen dessert towards their destination in silence: a temporary Rebel Outpost some several thousands of miles away from Jedha City. They were flying low, the barren mountains towering above and the night sky donned with distant stars as they sped on. Cassian began grilling the soldier, trying to gauge her allegiance.

Sargent Rou, as Cassian had learned her name now, was young, about the same age as Cassian and Pasha. She talked freely and animatedly, with short auburn hair and a warm face with intense green eyes.

“…so after I was made to watch my brother get murdered for speaking up against the Empire, I decided I needed to do something. Make a change. I wasn’t initially recruited: I was _begging_ to be taken in. It wasn’t until I ended up accidentally proving myself by taking a blaster shot for a Lieutenant” she said, indicating a scar across her left cheek Cassian hadn’t noticed before, “that I officially joined the ranks. But I’d die for the cause, now. I’ve seen too much,” she smiled sweetly and sadly. Cassian decided to take a chance.

“Do you mind if I check on my friend quick?” he asked in a whisper. She nodded. Cassian took off his headset and made his way over to Pasha, whose head was still buried in his knees, but seemingly no longer crying.

“Hey…” Cassian started, kneeling down in front of Pasha and stroking his now disheveled hair.

Pasha looked up at Cassian, the tears having streaked his makeup allover. Pasha managed a small smile as he righted his legs, but wouldn't meet Cassian's gaze.

“I’m sorry. I should apologize for letting myself go like that. And I must look a mess," he said, rubbing the few tears that were left, and straightening himself up on the bench. 

“Apologize? After all you’ve been through today? I should be apologizing to you. It’s my fault…”

“I just wish-“ but Pasha was cut off.

“Captain, it’s the base. They want an ETA and a status update.”

Cassian stroked a finger over Pasha’s cheek before taking up the radio control.

“Captain Andor?” a voice asked on the other line.

“Yes, we are on route to the outpost.” He hoped he could avoid the fact that he’d just let the Prince get murdered and the Palace blown up.

“I’m relieved. After the assault on the Palace, we were afraid-“ but the communications went fuzzy. Cassian tried different frequencies, but only found static. Cassian started gently rapping the radio. No luck.

“Captain!” Pasha suddenly screamed. Cassian looked to Pasha, who was pointing at Sargent Rou. She was lopsided in the chair, unconscious. Or dead. Cassian ran to her, and felt his heart stop. They were coming down hard, the ship clearly headed for a mountain in seconds. Cassian and Pasha reached out to one another, but their hands never met. The ship collided with solid rock.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SMUT WARNING: DREAM SEX

_Cassian wasn’t sure how their bodies had become intertwined, but they were. Pasha’s hair was loose and flowing, his skin glistening with sweat. Cassian was transfixed by the intricate tattoo in front of him as he thrust himself in the form beneath, a perfect sense of togetherness and passion. He could see Pasha’s hands clutched tightly around one of the elaborte pillows on his bed, his muted moans escaping into the pillow with each thrust. As Cassian reached orgasm, Pasha looked back at Cassian over his shoulder. But he wasn’t Pasha anymore: he was Prince Bodhi, with a wicked grin on his face._

Cassian woke with a start. His head was throbbing, and he felt it difficult to move his head. The sleeping form of Pasha resting his head on his arms beside him made him forget the pain. He wanted to reach out and touch Pasha, but his head hurt too much for him to move. He observed Pasha: in sleep, he looked otherworldly, like a fully fleshed-out ghost. He was wrapped in a heavy blanket, his face now clean of makeup and his hair pulled up in a simple ponytail. As Cassian drew his eyes away from Pasha and scanned the room, he realized he was in some sort of rocky, mountainous cave, natural windows cut from rock that allowed sunlight to leak in. The walls, the floors, and everything Cassian could see were stone. There wasn’t much furniture in Cassian’s room other than his bed and the chair Pasha sat in. There were voices somewhere in the distance, but he couldn't make out what they were saying. Cassian wished he could get up, but he didn't want to disturb Pasha. Eventually Cassian drifted off to sleep again, comforted by Pasha's presence

=============. 

When Cassian awoke the second time, his head was still throbbing. Pasha was gone, but he’d been replaced by an older gentlemen. He had a kind, wrinkled face and long gray hair that fell to his shoulders. His brown eyes were soft and framed by many wrinkles. He sported a full beard, and wore robes of simplistic browns and greens.

“Ah, Captain!” the man said. “We were wondering when you’d finally come-to. You seemed to have suffered quite a concussion. But other than that, it seems that you survived the crash unscathed.”

“What…what exactly _did_ happen? Where am I?”

“The last communication we received from you was that you were on your way. We all assumed that your ship had been gunned down. We were able to track down your ship, which had impaled the front of the mountain, but found it empty save for Sargent Rou’s body. Apparently she had been poisoned, but the dose she’d been given was enough to remain dormant, and strike and kill in an instant.

A whole day passed, and then a second, a third, and a fourth. We sent search parties, combing the area for any sign as to where you were. On the fifth day, one of our scouts spotted the Prince carrying your body in his arms, desperately trying to make it to base, so we sent out a crew to bring you both in.”

Cassian was stunned. “The…Prince?”

“Of course. He was filthy and starving, and trembling and faltering in his steps with your weight in his arms, but he kept on." Cassian remained unconvinced that it could possibly have been the Prince, how he could have even survived. Cassian hadn't examined his wounds, and the Prince was overly dramatic...Maybe the Prince had been playing dead? The man continued before Cassian could speak up.

"There was no mistaking the robes he wore: his mother gifted the fine cloth to him on her deathbed, instructing him to have them made into union ceremonial robes. We knew it was him as soon as we saw him.” The fuchsia robes? You could see those on another planet. He'd worn them to the gala, expecting to be united with Cassian? Was that why he'd been so insistent on everything being so grandiose that evening? He would have tricked Cassian into the ceremony, or drugged him into it. There was no way it would have happened otherwise. Cassian groaned, and the man examined Cassian, thinking he was reacting to pain. He continued on.

“He loves you, you know. He’s spent every single minute since he brought you here by your side. I was finally able to convince him to lay down in a proper bed when I told him I would stay at your side for awhile. I told him I would let him know as soon as you woke up, so I will leave you soon to get him. He’s always put duty above romance. Always. And he’s always put others before himself, too. As I’m sure you can imagine, he’s faced many suitors, but he was more concerned about the occupation and the Palace to ever take the time to do such a thing. He always told me he would never seek out love, but that it would find him. He talks very highly of you, and the way he has devoted himself to your recovery makes me very proud. He would have died with you in his arms, and he would have done so gladly, knowing that he brought you that much closer to this base. As long as I have known him, Captain Andor, I have never seen Prince Bodhi fall so in love with someone.”

Cassian felt like he was going to vomit, and his head was pounding even harder. “You…know him? You knew him before now?”

“Of course,” the man smiled. “I’m his Royal Adviser, Pasha.”

Cassian gladly accepted the darkness that enveloped him at this news.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm a horrible liar. This was supposed to be the last chapter. It's now the second to last. Sorry!

Familiar odors drifted through the air, waking Cassian once more from his sleep. He recognized the spices, familiar to the Palace. Someone had been cooking, and the scents were strong enough to fill the entire base. Cassian couldn’t deny being hungry: he’d not managed to eat much of a meal since he drifted in and out of sleep, the pain medications administered to him to dull the pain from his concussion causing him only moments of lucidity.

Suddenly it came crashing back to him: the old man who had talked to Cassian. Pasha. Cassian sat up, realizing he was in much less pain and also less drowsy, but feeling nauseous from all the information he’d been delivered. He buried his face in his hands, hoping that at least some of what had happened had been delirium.

Cassian was a Captain, an assassin, and someone who was much better at dealing with puzzles like this. But puzzles before now hadn’t involved his heart.

So. Pasha was not Pasha, the old man was Pasha. Maybe the advisors to the Prince shared the same name? That was a possibility. A title just like prince. Alright, that solved one mystery. Then there was the issue of the Prince himself. How had he survived? Cassian really hadn’t been paying attention to the Prince when he’d passed, and had been more concerned with comforting Young Pasha. The blood had seemed real enough, but given the situation, it would not be out of the question to fake the death, blood and all. So the Prince had faked his death, and had escaped the Palace? And found Cassian and the Young Pasha in the wreckage of the ship, but Pasha hadn’t survived the crash, and so the Prince dragged Cassian across the frigid desert to the base? Second mystery solved.

Cassian sighed as he ran a hand through his hair. Dropping his arms to his knees, he finally allowed himself to take in the room since waking up. Cassian could see beyond the windows that the sun was leaving a streak of fiery red in the sky. His stomach growled, but he wasn’t sure if it was now hunger or just a sinking feeling in his stomach. Old Pasha had told him of the Prince’s devotion, and it seemed that Young Pasha was dead, the precise circumstances Cassian did not want to find himself in. Maybe he could send Prince Bodhi away to meet with someone? Or Cassian could leave. But how could he get reassigned? He’d volunteered for this position in the first place.

A scuffing of feet drew Cassian from his thoughts, as Old Pasha made his way into the room.

“Ah! Captain! You’re awake,” Old Pasha exclaimed, his kindly face drawn up in a grin. “The Prince has been cooking for the base, and I’m sure he’d be most delighted to bring you a tray now that you’re awake. This will be quite a delight for him. I’ll go and fetch him,” Old Pasha said, bowing himself out of the room. Cassian was unable to interrupt before the man was gone.

He groaned as he collapsed on to his side, drawing his blankets up to his chin. He could pretend to be asleep. That was an option. He could leave the room and hide somewhere in the base, and wait to steal whatever spacecraft they happened to have. That was another option. Or he could tell the Prince the truth. That he couldn’t stand him. That he didn’t want his affections. That was also an option. The one Cassian knew he needed.  
  
Cassian lay for a time in thoughtful silence, feeling each minute creep by at an agonizing pace. He willed himself to stay awake. It had to be done.

Finally, after what seemed hours but was surely only minutes, he heard scuffled footsteps once more. Cassian quickly turned his back to the door, laying on his side so as to avoid facing the Prince. Rich spices seemed to waft lazily in the air, making Cassian regret what he was about to say if only for the fact that he was starving.

“Captain, the Prince has brought you a tray of food, and wishes to dine with you,” Old Pasha said from the doorway. He could hear the shuffling of Old Pasha’s feet getting distant as the slight rattling of the tray he imagined Prince Bodhi to be carrying grew louder. Cassian remained on his side as he delivered the small speech he had composed in his head.

“I do not want your attentions. Everything you have done towards me has been deceitful and manipulative. If I have ever given the impression that I was interested, it has been out of duty and respect for my job, not for you. I will personally see to it that someone else takes up this position, because I cannot stay in your company any longer. I am thankful for the hospitality shown to me by the Palace, but certainly not by you. Please leave. Leave me now, leave me alone, and don’t try to see me again.”

A hollow silence hung in the air for a moment. Cassian heard the rattling from the tray, and the delicate placement of the tray on his bedside table. Near silent footsteps carried the Prince from the room. Somehow, Cassian had managed to pull it off. He’d been expecting a war from Prince Bodhi, but had somehow managed not only to get the Prince to leave, but he’d also left him dinner. Several moments passed before Cassian decided to turn himself towards the meal he’d been left, wanting to make sure the Prince was actually gone. A quick glance and then a full scan of the room told Cassian he was indeed alone.

Cassian was shocked at the meal the Prince had managed to prepare, and there seemed to be double of everything since the Prince had intended to dine with Cassian. Well, Cassian was starving. He wasn’t about to let any of the meal go untouched. Every single bite packed flavor, and Cassian did his best to take his time and not inhale the entire meal. He savored each bite, not just because he was hungry, but because it was also a victory meal. Just as Cassian was finishing, he heard a shuttle take off.

_Please, please let that be the Prince._

As Cassian lifted his empty plate to set on top of the Prince’s now empty plate, he noticed a small crystal laying on the tray. Cassian picked the crystal up and examined it. Why did it look familiar? He turned it over in his fingers, holding it up to the artificial light in the room. Cassian felt a lump rise in his throat as he recognized the crystal. He’d seen it, and others, in Young Pasha’s hair the night of the gala. How could it possibly have ended up on the tray? Prince Bodhi. He’d left Cassian, but he wasn’t about to leave him without reminding him of what he'd _really_ lost. Cassian flung his sheets off and shoved the small crystal in his pocket. If the Prince was still there, he’d best hope Cassian wasn’t able to locate his blaster.


	8. Chapter 8

Cassian tore through the base, the crystal clutched so tightly in his hand his knuckles were turning white. As he rounded the corner to the docking bay, he was not expecting to find himself face to face with his commanding officer.

“General Draven? What…what are you doing here?” Cassian asked as he tucked the crystal in his pocket.

The man turned to look at Cassian, his brow furrowed and his eyes tired.

“The occupation has stretched much further than we feared, and more and more agents seem to be working for the Empire. We’ve decided to transfer the Prince. You’ve done well, Cassian, but it’s no longer safe for him to be here. He needs to be extracted.”

So the shuttle had been coming _in_ , not leaving.

“I understand. With the death of his adviser, it would seem that they are getting closer and closer to him. I wish you a safe journey, General.”

But the General just blinked at Cassian. “His adviser hasn’t been killed to my knowledge. We lost one of our men: the shuttle that crashed with you and the Prince. And the man that was…altered to take the place of the Prince. What’s going on, Captain? Is there something you’re not telling me?”

A deep frown settled on Cassian’s face. “Is there something you’re not telling _me_?”

Footsteps echoed on the metal plank that led to the awaiting General’s U-Wing.

“General, I’ve checked for bugs and faulty wiring but it-never mind, I can wait,” the Prince said meekly, turning to walk back into the ship.

“No, your Highness. I’m glad you’re here. Captain Andor seems to be offering a different story than the information I’ve been given, and I am hoping you can provide some clarification?” General Draven raised an eyebrow to Cassian, but Cassian was rubbing a hand over his face.

“I can’t believe…how did I not…it was so…” Cassian murmured to himself.

General Draven’s voice took on a rough, impatient edge. “Please, gentlemen. I mean no offense, Your Highness, but I really need to know if the information I’ve been given has been incorrect. Was your adviser killed or not? I was under the impression that he was sent here to this base months before you.”

“He-he was…I…When we…let me explain,” the Prince said, taking a deep breath. “When the Palace realized that the occupation stretched beyond just conquering a planet to stripping it of its precious resources (the kyber cyrstals), we, Pasha and myself, devised a plan to hire a double. I never intended for them to trick a man who had been tortured mad into the role. There is a man, Saw Gerrera, who has a history of torturing his victims. He used a creature on a man who was released to the streets of Jedha, wandering and babbling. It wasn’t difficult to convince him he was a Prince, and that he resembled me was an added bonus. I hated the idea. I was furious. No one consulted me on the usage of a tortured and ill man, and so I had Pasha sent away. But it was done. And I,” the Prince gulped back tears but remained strong. “I had the entire Palace staff removed and replaced.” He swiped away a tear before continuing. “I didn’t want them to suffer on my account, and I couldn’t risk the staff being interrogated or worse. So I sent them away. With a new staff, I took up the position of the false Prince’s adviser, and sought help to protect the life of the false Prince, knowing that they would also be close to me. I was only too happy when I was contacted by the Rebellion. But when Captain Andor accepted the position, I didn’t tell him. I couldn’t…and I’m…I’m sorry I lied. I thought you figured it out Cassian. That’s why when you said…I thought you knew and you were…I’m so sorry.” The Prince finished, hanging his head in shame.

Cassian was stunned, but it was General Draven that broke the silence.

“I admire your commitment to your people, and we are only too happy to have you on our side. In the future, however, I will need all information to go through me. That you did not inform Captain Andor was a risky move, and could have cost you you’re life. I would not have allowed him this assignment if I did not trust him, and in the future, as a valuable member of the Rebellion, you will need to be more trusting in our people.”

The Prince lifted his head, nodding to General Draven but looking broken. At least, he looked broken enough that Cassian felt his stomach turn. He wanted nothing more in the moment to pull Prince Bodhi into his arms.

“Yes, sir. My apologies again.” The Prince nodded to General Draven as he turned to walk back to the ship.

“I will need to make sure our path is clear before take-off. Captain Andor, I realize it is not your fault for the confusion, but I need to reassign you. For now, I need you to stay on base. There are still many things to take care of here. Your Highness, if you could collect your Advisor so we may leave, I will be ready in about half an hour.”

“Yes, sir,” Prince Bodhi said, at once complying with the General’s orders and walking away from the shuttle.

Cassian let him walk several steps until General Draven was inside the shuttle. He jogged to meet up with the Prince, who kept walking.

“You…you really think this is all your fault?” was all Cassian could ask as he met up with the Prince. He stopped to meet Cassian's gaze, and blinked a few times before answering.

“Of course. I concealed information from one of the Rebellion’s officers.”

“No, Pash-Prince. You concealed information because you were protecting me. Before we even met. Before I fell…it’s not your fault. I want to stay by your side.”

The Prince’s mouth turned up in a slight smile. “You don’t hate me, then? For not telling you the truth?”

Cassian closed the distance between them, grabbing the Prince’s hand and turning his palm up. He reached in his pocket and placed the crystal in his hand, closing his fingers around it. Cassian smiled as he swept a stray strand of hair behind the Prince’s ear, then traced a finger along his jaw.

“I hate you for making me fall in love with you. For that I will never forgive you.”

They leaned in to one another, joining hungry lips with a gentle kiss. The Prince pulled away after a few blissful moments, gently shoving Cassian.

“I hate you for getting reassigned! How…when will I see you again?”

Cassian smiled slyly as he pulled the Prince to his body, tracing invisible lines on his chin. “You’re the Prince, right?”

Prince Bodhi frowned. “Yes. Why?”

“You have the power to appointment people to your staff? Your advisers? Technically, you out-rank the General?”

“Yes, I-“ the Prince’s eyes lit up in understanding. “Let’s go find Pasha!” Prince Bodhi yelped, dragging Cassian along with him as he sprinted out of the hangar. It was soon apparent to Cassian that finding Pasha was no longer on the Prince’s mind as they rounded the corner to Cassian’s room.

“My Prince,” Cassian said as they reached the threshold. Prince Bodhi stopped, the sudden halt in momentum causing Cassian to collide with him, and they stumbled into the room. The Prince sought his lips once more, a deeper, more passionate kiss this time.

“We still have time before we need to be back to the shuttle,” the Prince said, panting and dragging his lower lip through his teeth. Cassian couldn’t help his hands from wandering with desire as they slowly backed towards the bed.

“I’m at your service,” Cassian responded in a throaty tone.

“Ha!” the Prince squeaked in response to Cassian’s exploring hands. “I’m going to regret making you my Adviser, aren’t I?”

“I hope so,” was all the Captain could say before the Prince pulled him down on the bed with him.

“Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! Unless I write what happens next. But we'll leave it here for now!


End file.
